


John Deere Green

by Shotgunpicksthemusic



Series: The Song Remembers When [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 21:19:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3264704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shotgunpicksthemusic/pseuds/Shotgunpicksthemusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One hot summer night, in the midnight hour, he climbed, intent on telling the world how he felt.</p><p>Short ficlet based on the song "John Deere Green".  Schmoopy, maybe, gen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	John Deere Green

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, constructive criticism, kudos are all welcome and adored!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to all who read, comment, and kudo. Y'all rock!

It was sweltering hot. Sweat dripped down his face, stinging slightly in his eyes, rolling down the back of his neck in a tickle that was irritating. It was a sleepy southern night, the humid air pushed against everything, cicadas droned and the scent of night blooming jasmine was cloyingly sweet. The metal under his hands was warm against his skin. He looked up, blinking. Halfway there, and his arms were shaking just a bit.

"Come on, we don't have all night."

He glanced down at his brother, smiling softly. His brother grinned back, motioning with his head.

"Get moving."

He turned back to the ladder. One hand in front of the other, a gentle clang when the can he dragged with him made contact with the tower. They were almost to the top when they heard the truck drive by, and they froze, hearts slamming in their chests, pressing their bodies desperately against the heated metal. The truck moved slowly by, taking forever before driving away in a cloud of dust. With a heavy sigh and a burst of nervous energy, he clambered over the top, sprawling on the slim walkway, resting against the railing as he waited for his brother to finish the climb.

"You're sure about this?"

He only nodded. He was more than sure.

They stood and inched around the curved side of the tower. Carefully, deliberately not looking down, he climbed on the railing and, resting one hand against the tower, held out his other. His brother opened the can of paint, snorting in amusement at the color.

"Really? _**Green**_?"

"It's my favorite color."

"Whatever."

His brother dipped the brush in the paint and handed it up. He was careful, precise with the curve sweeping up, gently coming around to a point. Reaching around, he mirrored the action on the other side. They worked in tandem, he painting, his brother taking the brush when he handed it down and reloading it with the bright emerald paint.

The letters were easier, and he swiftly created his message, finishing with a flourish. He climbed down from the railing and stood side by side with his brother, regarding his handiwork.

"Should have used red."

He just shook his head and both boys gathered their things, starting the long climb down.

~~*~~

_10 years later_

"How's the crop coming, Dean?"

Dean smiled at Bobby, grateful for the help unloading the truck.

"Do you mean the corn, or the kids?"

Bobby laughed. "Both, of course."

"Cas'll be by with the kids in just a minute. I think he took them for ice cream. Corn is fine, growing just as fast as the kids are."

"See they tried again?"

Both men turned to look at the town's water tower. A ten foot bright green heart decorated the side, and written in the center in precise, delicate handwriting were the words: _Castiel loves Dean_. There was evidence in the slightly lighter colored paint surrounding the heart that it had recently been painted over, but it was no use. Every time the town tried, the green paint bled through.

"The fool should have used red," Bobby said, scratching under his hat.

"It looks good to me," Dean retorted softly. A wide smile lit his face when he saw his husband coming up the street, three year old and seven year old in tow, baby in his arms. An answering smile graced Cas's face and the kids tore up the sidewalk, throwing themselves at their daddy.

"Idjits," Bobby said, but he was grinning, too.


End file.
